


When the Day is Through

by rilenite



Series: Dungeons and Dragons Writing [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 12:32:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rilenite/pseuds/rilenite
Summary: It was said that when one soul was taken by Malachite, another was delivered.[AKA: I wrote fanfiction for my own DnD character. Told from the POV of the youngest prince's butler/caretaker.]





	1. Mandala

It was said that when one soul was taken by Malachite, another was delivered. The adage was one few thought much of, usually it was spoken to those grieving at funerals with little meaning behind it. Few took any real solace in the statement, but looking at the silent child being fussed over by some of the best clerics the castle had to offer Malach found it was the only thing he  _ could  _ take solace in.

He found himself speaking the words to Alimarzic who sat next to him completely despondent, but the Emperor didn’t seem to find the same meaning Malach had. After several minutes the clerics seemed to stop their hushed speaking and spells, and picked the child up. As the one holding the child turned, Alimarzic stood and left the room without a word. The woman stood still for a moment, watching as he left, then quietly approached Malach.

“His temperature is still low but he’s breathing again,” she spoke softly, not looking up at Malach. He stared down at the silent child. It was odd, Carnelian and Opal had been so lively. They’d screamed bloody murder and kicked their feet wildly, but this one did neither of those things. 

“Our best advice is usually for the mother or father to hold the child while wrapped in a blanket to warm them up but…” she chanced a glance over at the door Alimarzic had walked out of moments before, and she felt no need to explain further. Malach held his arms out and the cleric carefully handed the baby over.

They stood in silence, and Malach watched the child for signs that he was still with them. Time passed, and soon the clerics began to filter out. One offered a blanket to Malach, and he soon took a seat and did as the cleric had suggested.

“I’m sorry,” Malach said, though he knew the baby couldn’t understand what it was he was saying. He had no reason to apologize to the child, but for some reason he felt a great guilt build up in him. This was the second time he’d been left helpless as an Empress died in front of him, the second time he had to watch Alimarzic’s face shut down, the second time he was left alone to speak for the Emperor as Alimarzic shut down in another room. He felt a great helplessness, the same one he’d felt when Pyrope died, but this time it was directed at more than just Alimarzic. Carnelian was strong but Malach knew he was still just a child who had nightmares and painted pictures of what he thought his new sibling would look like. Opal acted with independence but she still came to her mother when she saw a wasp and begged her to make it go away. The two of them no doubt had an idea of what had happened by now, if not Opal Carnelian certainly knew. And then there was the child…

“She’d wanted to name it after herself,” a voice made Malach jump. He turned to see the eldest of the siblings standing in the doorway. He stood in the same confident way he always did, but his hair frizzed out as though he’d been pulling at it and his eyes were clearly holding back tears he’d been crying before walking into the room.

“She told dad that if he could name himself after god she could name a child after herself,” he elaborated. His voice was kept casual, as though he was speaking about the weather, but there was an underlying strain that revealed just how difficult it was to keep this facade of normalcy up.

Carnelian walked toward Malach, looking at the child in his arms.

“Is he…?”

“Yes, they said he wasn’t regulating his own temperature but he was breathing normally,” Malach explained. “Has Opal been told?”

Carnelian sucked in a sharp breath, “No one would tell either of us. I had assumed but I… I couldn’t tell her either,” a look of guilt crossed his face, “I’m afraid if, I-” he tried to continue, but at those words he fell into the seat next to Malach with a poorly hidden sob. “I’m scared,” he finally said from behind his hands.

Malach sat beside the boy for the night, until the prince finally fell asleep against his shoulder. Unsure of what to do, he stayed in the room with the child who still had no name.

In the middle of the night, Malach recognized a distant scream of denial as Opal.


	2. Forgetful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s five you know”

“He’s five you know,” Malach said, standing stiffly in the Emperor’s room. At his words the man paused putting on his jacket, but he quickly recovered.

“Why do you think I’d have forgotten that?” Alimarzic asked without so much as looking at Malach.

“He knows his birthday now, he’s been asking why there are no celebrations like Carnelian and Opal’s,” he spoke in a stilted tone. He had endless respect for the man in front of him, but when he played dumb like this Malach couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of resentment.

“Why did you let him know they were celebrations meant for  _ them _ ?” Alimarzic asked, now glancing over at Malach. It had been one of the many things on Alimarzic’s list on how to care for his youngest child. He wasn’t to let the child know he was different, he was not to be made aware that his birthday was the only one not celebrated until he was old enough to understand his father’s reasoning.

“I didn’t.”

A look of realization crossed Alimarzic’s face.

“Opal,” he muttered under his breath.

“She only defies you-”

“Because she thinks I’m trying to pretend her mother was never around, you’ve told me before Malach,” Alimarzic was quick to finish the sentence for him. His calm facade was now fading, replaced with annoyance. Malach knew it was best to stop, but he couldn’t help but continue, if just for the sakes of the children he felt responsible for.

“Is that not what you’re doing? Removing all the paintings of her, treating you eldest like an apprentice rather than your son and disallowing your daughter to learn about her mother’s country? Keeping Chalcedony-”

“Malach today is a day of mourning,” he raised his voice and spoke sharply, but then he quickly softened, “They’ll all understand when they’re older. Even if they hate me now, they’ll see why I’ve done what I’ve done.”

Malach shut his mouth and held back his rebuttals.

“Take him to the library for the day and start introducing Celestial to him, that ought to keep him distracted for the day,” Alimarzic ordered as he finished preparing and exited the room. Malach didn’t bother telling the man that he’d been teaching the boy Celestial at the Emperor’s request for nearly a year already. 


	3. She's Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t treat them like this, Alimarzic.”

“You can’t treat them like this, Alimarzic.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d tried to speak with Alimarzic like this, and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. Malach knew the man was suffering, he knew he’d lost more than he’d deserved to lose, but he couldn’t stand to watch him drag his children down with him. He saw what the man didn’t see. He saw the way the eldest child always became someone else when the man entered the room, his shoulders too tight and his face too old for someone only in his early twenties. He saw when Opal finally let her defiant face fall, he saw the look of anger turn into one of disappointment as her father further withdrew from her. He saw the way the youngest threw himself at his father at any chance he had only to return to Malach with new insults for himself and a renewed motivation to fix what he assumed was broken.

After he received no response, Malach spoke again.

“I know you think you’re alone in this but you aren’t, they all lost someone just like you did. You can’t keep pretending they don’t all know loss as well as you,” his words grew more bitter with every word. Alimarzic had the world in his hands, three children and people who would follow him to the ends of the earth, and yet he acted like he was the lone victim fighting against the world.

Malach nearly began speaking again when Alimarzic stayed silent for some time, but before he had the chance the Emperor spoke softly.

“You’re wrong.”

“Just because they were children doesn’t mean they didn’t understand what happened,” he shot back. He didn’t understand how Alimarzic could be so deluded to believe his own children didn’t understand the gravity of their mother’s death.

“ _ He doesn’t _ ,” the words came out bitter, and Malach sucked in a deep breath.

“He’s your child Izac,” he leaned forward as he said the words, an old burning rising up from where it had been buried many years ago after the death of Pyrope.

“Then why doesn’t he  _ act _ like it?” he said the words with more force than Malach had ever heard him use when speaking of his youngest. Over the years since the child’s birth he’d heard the man speak dispassionately about the boy, with annoyance, or sadness, but never this forceful anger.

“What in the God’s name are you going on about?” Malach’s voice rose in frustration. This wasn’t fair on anyone, his children didn’t deserve this,  _ Malach _ didn’t deserve this. He had spent decades serving the man, they’d fought side by side and Malach had felt like the man could have done anything. And now look at him, holding a fucking child responsible for the death of a woman he never knew, forcing the glorified babysitter he’d thrown the child to to pull his  _ royal shit _ together for him. 

“Alimazi blessed myself and my descendants with her magic, Carnelian and Opal have long since surpassed their mentors and I have no doubt they’ll surpass me some day soon.  _ He  _ hasn’t even shown a spark. It has to be a sign, _ he _ wasn’t  _ meant  _ to be my child,  _ he wasn’t meant to take her place _ ,” every word Alimarzic spoke grew more frantic, as though he was trying to convince himself, to justify the way he felt. It all came to a head with a final statement.

_ “Malach, I just can’t help but blame him for what happened.” _

Alimarzic looked at him pleadingly, as though he needed Malach to believe him so he could be validated in what he was doing. So finally all of this grief and resentment would make sense and he wouldn’t have to confront it any longer. 

“She’s watching us you know. She’s watching _ you _ ,” Malach said slowly with a carefully restrained voice. “She’s looking down on you as you shun the children she cared so much for, the child she died for Izac. May the Gods help you when you join her,” and with that he left the man with his own thoughts.


	4. Devout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malach had never seen a child pray so much.

Malach had never seen a child pray so much. Carnelian had never given much of a fuss over worshipping their Gods, but he never seemed to throw himself to entirely into the worship like Chalcedony did, and Opal had always been fussy about sitting still and quiet while worshipping. During the moments of silence as he sat in wait for the child to finish, Malach thought more about the Gods than he ever had in his younger years.

One would be a fool to deny the Gods’ existence or seemingly limitless power at this point, their victory against Zujaj had been thanks to the Gods, but after their victory Malach found himself believing in them less and less. His Gods, the ones he had once believed to be incapable of mistakes and have nothing but their creation’s best interests in mind had slowly become little more than Fae using them for their own petty gains and entertainment in Malach’s mind. It began with the death of Pyrope, or moreover the way Alimazi’s chosen reacted to the woman’s death. Izac, the one given the power to contain Zujaj and lead their country to prosperity, had fallen from a peerless harbinger of Alimazi’s light to a bitter widow. That was when the first thoughts of the Gods being capable of mistakes creeped in, but after the Second Empress Selenite came to join their family the thoughts were pushed away again. Izac, or rather Alimarzic as he insisted he be called now, seemed to return somewhat. He wasn’t the same man, not by any means, but some of that light and hope he’d seen before Pyrope’s death seemed to return to him. 

The death of Selenite ruined most any of Malach’s faith, however.

Alimarzic returned to the way he was when Pyrope died, but this time he dragged so much down more down with him. His eldest children, only sixteen and eight at the time, were the first of the victims. Watching the way he treated Carnelian like a business associate and Opal like nothing more than a horrid reminder of something best left forgotten, Malach could barely see how Alimazi had chosen this man. Then on the night he finally took care of Chalcedony away from Alimarzic he became convinced the man was chosen so Alimazi and her children would be able to have some entertainment after Zujaj was defeated. 

He still prayed, but he no longer did it with much hope. It always consisted of questions, how and why Izac was chosen despite his ability to commit such horrible actions, why the youngest had yet to receive any sign he’d been blessed like the rest of his family, why he even had to ask these questions in the first place. Malach had no doubt that these questions fell on deaf ears as the Gods laughed at whatever the most recent ironic twist of fate they’d set into motion unfolded.

It made him feel ill to think of the Gods laughing at their prayers, at the child in front of him’s prayers. There was a sort of morbid hilarity in the situation, a man who by all means had been set up to fail by the Gods devoting himself to them entirely, believing his situation was simply because he hadn’t been devout enough beforehand and that the plan the Gods had for him would be one that led him somewhere positive. He never brought his thoughts forward to Chalcedony of course, who was he to take away the one thing the boy seemed to think he could do correctly? He knew the child took great pride in his faith, his extensive knowledge of the Gods and their history was evident in the way he would brighten up when Malach said they’d be studying them again that day, and would spend most of the day speaking for Malach. 

So he just sat and waited for the child to finish asking for today to be the day he finally showed some promise, for today to be the day that everything just fell into place, as though the things causing his issues were something he had any control over and were something that could be fixed by something as simple as casting a basic spell. It was delusional on the boys part to think that way, but Malach couldn’t bring himself to correct Chalcedony. There was hardly any point to it anyway, he had little doubt all it would do is trigger a fight and then lead to further doubt and frustration on the boys part. Chalcedony vehemently denied flaws in his father, he declared that being Alimazi’s chosen was proof enough that his father was a better man than the rest of them, and it was best to just leave the subject alone. 


End file.
